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these conditions in my absorbed interest in this man and his words. He told me of some matters which concerned the world, and of many others which concerned only myself. He gave me precise instructions and special exercises in connection with my own efforts to arrive at a degree of spiritual equilibrium and enlightenment beyond that which I had so far attained. He spoke frankly and critically, even sternly, of certain obstacles in my path, arising out of my personal faults. Finally, he fixed an appointment with me for the following day, near the Roman altar, inside the colonnade that stands on the Nile bank at the Temple of Luxor.
Without rising from his rocky seat, he bade me farewell, excusing himself from further conversation oil account of his being extremely busy and with much to do at the moment.
I left him regretfully, loath to part from one whose conversation was so original and fascinating, and whose personality was so inspiring and uplifting.
The descent of the hill was steep and slithery; I made it on foot down the rock and rubble, holding the donkey's rein in one hand. When we reached the base I mounted the saddle and took a last look at the peak, which loomed up so portentously.
Ra-Mak-Hotep had not even begun his return journey. He was evidently still squatting on that bleak hill-top.
What could he be doing up there, to keep him "extremely busy" while sitting as immobile as a statue  Would he still be there when the shadows of dusk deepened over the pink terraces of the Libyan Hills ?